


If I Ain't Got You

by midnightcas



Series: Sterek Playlist [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison, Alive Boyd, Alive Erica Reyes, Anxiety, Anxious Stiles, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Concerned Stiles Stilinski, Crying, Cute, Dead Claudia Stilinski, Deputy Derek, Derek Feels, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski are Soulmates, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski in Love, Derek Uses His Words, Derek is In Love, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Derek is a Softie, Derek is a sap, Domestic Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Feelings, Fluff, Future Fic, Hale Family Feels, Hale-McCall Pack, How Do I Tag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, ITS SO FLUFFY IM GONNA DIE, Laura Hale Feels, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Married Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Mentioned blowjob, Mentions of Heather - Freeform, Mentions of Sex, Mother Melissa, Nice Jackson, No one ever taught me how to tag, Protective Boyd, Protective Derek, Protective Isaac, Protective Jackson, Self Confidence Issues, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Dancing, Songfic, Sourwolf, Stiles Stilinski Has Low Self-Esteem, Stiles is Stiles, Stiles is nervous, Stiles is stressed, Stilinski Family Feels, Swearing, Teacher Stiles, Theyre at a gala, Werewolves exist, When I say protective..., You've all convinced me that the Sheriff's name is John, gross feelings, im sorry, its all fluff, its like syrup, juat gross fluff, kind of, melissa is perfect, minor homophobia, no smutt, pov?, seriously, sterek, ugly crying, what pov?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6782428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightcas/pseuds/midnightcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that was how Stiles Stilinski ended up at a gala on his Friday night, instead of grading his student’s homework with Chinese food and watching International Movies on Netflix. Which, obviously was more preferable than this.<br/>Until it wasn’t.</p><p>Or the one where Derek is a complete sap and Stiles is okay with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Ain't Got You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys.
> 
> Another installment in Sterek Playlist.  
> It's finals months, so naturally, I posted 3 entirely new fanfics this week. I'm totally going to fail out of college, but...  
> Well anyways, I actually ended up writing this in one sitting, which is unusual for me. It's also 3 in the morning. So I can only hope this is half a decent as I think it is.
> 
> It's unbeta'd so if there are any major mistakes let me know.  
> Well, I hope you like it!!
> 
> Song: https://youtu.be/LFz9ZoJjVGo

It was mid October. A cool wind swept over the small town of Beacon Hills, California, promising cooler weather for the months to come.

It had been five years since Scott McCall and most of the Hale Pack (they had kept the name out of respect of the Hale family and the territory) had graduated from the town’s High School and gone their separate ways. For some, that meant across the country, for others, across the world. Jackson Whittemore stayed in London to finish his degree while Allison headed to France to further explore her Argent roots and to finally undergo the “proper”Argent Training. Lydia Martin flew straight into New York, easily completing her undergraduate at New York University. Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd decided on Michigan State together and spent all four years there, hardly returning home for Christmases. Kira Yukimura studied abroad in Japan for two years before joining Stiles Stilinski at UC Berkeley. Danny was accepted into Stanford's compiter science program, while Isaac Lahey and Scott McCall, their Alpha, attended Beacon Hills Community College. This allowed them to stay close to their home territory and to keep it protected from any unknown threats. Derek Hale, the Alpha’s second, also decided to permanently settle in Beacon Hills. After a few months of hassling, he finally was cleared to start the rebuilding of his old home. He was offered a job alongside the Sheriff and took to it naturally.

Now, however, they were all migrating back. To their pack. To their family.  
Now, they were all adults.  
Now, they were all experienced.  
Now, they were stronger, smarter, faster, _better._  
Now, they were home.

So, naturally, in celebration of Jackson Whittemore (...no reason, just in celebration of him, because somethings never change), there was a gala. Yes, a _gala_ . Stiles was pretty sure the last _gala_ in Beacon Hills had been never. But a gala there would be. He needed _something_ to celebrate though, because telling the banquet hall that _he_ was the miraculous event they would be celebrating, apparently didn’t fit into his whole new _‘I’m not the same asshole I was in highschool’_ facade he was trying out. So, what did the asshole decide to do with his stupid mountain of money he forever sat on? He donated it (a lot of it) to a Wolf Sanctuary somewhere out in Upstate New York. He was just smitten with himself. And okay, Stiles may have been just a little jealous that he hadn’t thought of it first, but when he saw the glare Jackson was subjected to via Lydia and Derek, he was suddenly glad his creative genius had failed him and he wasn’t on the other end of that look. 

But anyway, that was how Stiles Stilinski ended up at a _gala_ on his Friday night, instead of grading his students' homework with Chinese food and blanket, watching International Movies on Netflix.

Which, obviously was more preferable than this.

Until it wasn’t.

 

Stiles kind of had been a nervous wreck about this whole thing. Which, yeah, was a little weird because he was _Stiles_ . But he hasn’t really been in the swing of _Beacon Hills_ since high school, despite him dropping in on the weekends and on his breaks. But even then did he mostly stick to his Dad and the Pack. And when he did venture outside, he would sometimes be met with an old neighbor or classmate, etc. But this? The whole town would be here. And it was _election year_. Which only meant _more_ pressure. His father would be under the scrutinizing gaze of...well, everyone. Seeing the new friendship between John and the Whittemore’s (finally Stiles had done _something_ right in that area), was sure to serve him well. But anything could happen. Anything that was _Stiles_ could happen. Because not only would the _Sheriff_ be under watchful eyes this evening, but his family would be too.

 

John had finally hooked up with Melissa. Well, that is, if you consider old fashioned courting with flowers and movie dates and shy hand holding, etc. "hooking up".

After Scott and Stiles’ Freshman year of college, the two finally decided to stop dancing around each other and just, ya know, fall in love and stuff. Whatever. The next year they were married and Melissa became a Stilinski. It was bittersweet.

Scott was now officially his _legal_ brother and his dad was happy. And of course that made Stiles happy too. John was lucky to have found someone like Melissa. A second love. Someone who loved him just as much as his first wife. And _Stiles_ was lucky that he had found someone that loved him as much as his real mother had. Ever since that fateful day in the sandbox all those years ago, she had always treated Stiles the same she treated Scott without so much as a second thought. It was just the idea of _another woman_ taking Claudia’s spot in their life, a spot that had been designatedly empty for all these years, that made his gut clench. Melissa wasn’t trying to replace her. She had made it very clear to Stiles at the first signs of his hesitation. It had lead to a long conversation, Stiles telling her that he still loves her so very much and that he is very much _for_ her and his father. And she had replied, to his utter surprise,that she was relieved because for a while it had seemed that he hated the idea all together and how much she loved him and his father and that she knew if Stiles was against the relationship, it wouldn’t last very long with John at all. Stiles had comforted her the best he could and tried to explain in his very ‘Stiles’ way that it was just hard and even though Claudia had passed over ten years ago he still thought of her everyday. He told her how, while he always saw Melissa as another mother, it has always been as _another_ mother and never _his._ And now he did and it was _hard_.

John had found them on the couch a few hour later, Melissa’s arms wrapped around a very bleary eyed and sniffling Stiles, nearly in her lap, tears running down her face as well. But it was still a process.

Another woman in his father’s bed,  
Another woman making dinner or kissing his father goodbye.  
Another woman in their family pictures.  
Another woman in her seat for the holidays.  
Another woman who took the Stilinski last name.

It took time. It did. But if anyone deserved Claudia’s spot, it was Melissa. He had eventually started calling her ‘Mom’ without hesitation. And seeing her face light up after the first time (and then the very many other times after) was worth the entire internal battle he had been waging with himself. Amd in that moment, he had felt Claudia. Proud and bright by his side. He hadn’t looked back since.

 

But anyways, Stiles was _stressing._ He was stressed about what he was going to wear. His date. How he was going to do his hair. What cologne he was going to put on. He was stressed about if he’d fuck up his dancing. Or his walking. Or his smile. Or his talking. He _always_ fucked up when it came to talking. 

He never understood why his father didn’t just lock him up for these things. He supposed it wouldn’t look too good for the public image. But then again, _anything_ would have looked better than the walking talking mess that was Stiles Stilinski. He would have locked _himself_ up. But his father...his father was also so damn proud of him. Always so proud of his fuck up of a son. And while Stiles never really _understood_ it, he was damn grateful for it. He had only ever known unconditional love. He didn’t know how he had ever gotten so lucky.

 

He sighed as he checked back into his conversation with Lydia about...well, _something_ , of course. He hadn’t really been paying attention. She had been talking just to talk. It had been something about number and business and... _something._ He wasn’t even going to pretend that it was interesting. He was still too busy having his internal freak out. Lydia though--the woman looked stunning. She wore a tight black dress that hugged her body and her hair was twisted up into a complicated bun. At least that’s what it looked like to Stiles. Well, whatever it was, it was perfect. He cut her off mid sentence to tell her as such. She only looked at him with a half hearted glare, unsure whether to be offended or flattered. It was a look from her he was used to by now.

He watched as bunch of news reporters from local stations and papers stumbled into the room eagerly along with a few other high end politicians and guests. The party was in full swing now. People, with glasses of champagne or wine, flitted across the room having conversation after conversation. Networking and asskissing. Normally Stiles was good at parties. He was the social butterfly, anxious and restless. But this...today it was all different.

Letting his anxiety get the best of him, Stiles started absently fiddled with his cuffs, before a warm gentle hand settled over his. He let out out a long breath as he looked up to see Derek looking down at him, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You alright?”

He gave a few nods and glanced over at a handful of reporters already surrounding Jackson and a representative of the Wolf Sanctuary he had donated to. Derek followed his gaze and nodded in understanding as he gave Stiles’ hand a small squeeze of reassurance before letting go. Stiles couldn’t hide the smile that swept across his face before he latched onto Derek’s arm, fulfilling the gala cliche. A beautiful man with someone hanging off their arm? So very James Bond. Or  _gala_ or something.

The werewolf let out a huff of forced annoyance before raising his eyebrows and asking, “May I get you a drink? Mr. Stilinski?”

“After you. _Mr. Hale._ ”

 

Just another thing to be stressed about. This was the first time Derek and Stiles would be out _out_ together as a couple. In Beacon Hills. _Officially_. It had taken Stiles two _weeks_ to ask Derek to go to the gala with him--despite the fact that they have been dating for three years. Sure they had been out in public together, tons of times, for sure. But it had been a slow building relationship, starting off a civilized (barely) acquaintances and quickly making the jump to friends. But this? This was a statement. He had been at college for the past five/six years. It wasn’t like he had a ton of time to get busy with his super hot werewolf boyfriend in public. But that was it. He was out and proud. Kind of. Not all of Beacon Hills was a liberal as he and his father was. And he didn’t want his father losing votes just because his son was _gay._ Godforbid. And obviously he wasn’t ashamed of Derek (if anything Derek should be ashamed of _him_ ), God _knows_ he isn’t ashamed of Derek.

But at first he had thought of inviting Heather as a friend. He wouldn’t show up stag like the loser everyone expected him to be and he wouldn’t be ‘tarnishing’  his father’s name by his ‘progressiveness’ and ‘rebellious’ ways. However, as soon as his father had gotten word of _this_ , he nixed the idea with  _the look_ . The “I’m disappointed that you would even think that" look, mixed with an tablespoon of pity. Which, to be fair, was just as effective as the patented Scott McCall Puppy Dog Eyes. John had sat Stiles down in his office and gave him a _very_ long talk about how he loved him and that his happiness was worth more than some random opinion of some random old fashioned voter. He told him...no, _demanded_ that he bring Derek and that the two of them would sit right next to he, Melissa at the same table as the Mayor. It was equal parts disturbing and touching.

But in the end when he had finally _asked_ Derek to go with him, the wolf looked almost confused (and maybe a littlee insulted) that Stiles had thought other wise. After a very complex eyebrow movement, he admitted that he had already bought his tux and took off from work. Stiles, of course in guilt, had explained the entire stupid predicament to Derek afterwards, only to get yet _another_ pitying look and drawn out lecture about how much John loved him and yada, yada, yada and how he wouldn’t care if Stiles brought a fucking _rock_ as a date to the stupid gala. He had snorted at that. Picturing himself next to the Mayor, introducing him to his pet rock that Scott had made him all those years ago at summer camp. He was feeling the love, obviously, but if he had to listen to someone else go on and on about self worth and self love etc, he was going to blow chunks.

So he blew Derek instead.

 

They meandered around for a while, drinks in hand, hands on each other. They spent most of their time talking to the pack. Erica and Boyd flanked them for a while until their families arrived, leaving them to Scott and Allison. That's when they _finally_ all decided to talk about how _lame_ the whole thing actually was...

”Stiles, that’s rude.” Derek.

“I think it’s kind of nice.” Allison.

“Totally lame.” Scott.

That was when the the Sheriff caught sight of his son and waved him over from across the room. After taking further inventory, he saw that John had been talking to a local news reporter. The fear and anxiety must have been rolling off of him in _waves_ because Derek was at his back immediately while Isaac, Boyd and Jackson all paused whatever they had been doing to look over at him in question.

“Stiles,” Derek grumbled, “ _calm down_.”

The softness and familiarity of his voice did wonders to ground him as his hand slid to the small of Stiles’ back, shoving him a bit to make him start moving towards the Sheriff.

“Stiles,” John greeted warmly, “this is Victor. An old friend of mine. He’s a writer for the Beacon Hills Times. Victor this is my son Stiles.”

“Beauty to meet you,” the man said, grasping Stiles’ hand aggressively before turning towards Derek, “And you are?”  
  
“Derek,” the werewolf said carefully.

“Derek is my son’s boyfriend,” John said proudly.

Stiles watched as the sentiment made Derek practically preen.

“Oh. Ah. Yes. Nice to meet you. So, _Stiles_ what is it that you do for a living?”

“I’m a teacher."

“Why didn’t you want to take after your old man?” The judgement was harsh in his words and Derek bit his lip from growling.

“Of course I did,” Stiles gave a forced smile, “but sometimes what you want and what you need are different I suppose.”

And he wasn’t wrong. After the hell they had all gone through in high school, Stiles had decided that he had enough life threatening situation under his belt to write a freaking manual on it. He and Derek had talked about it. He wanted Stiles alive and Stiles wanted to _be_ alive. Although it had been one of his longtime dreams, he knew that in order for his future to work, especially with Derek, the protective jackass that he was, he have to take one for the team. His father had even been relieved when he had told him, nervously, that he would take path of Claudia and become a teacher.

“I want to have a family in the future," he continued, "and while Pops here could juggle everything perfectly by being the hell of a cop he is _and_ making it to my lacrosse games, I’m not too sure I could.”

Derek gripped Stiles’ hip tightly at the mention of having a family. His wolf howled in delight that his mate wanted to give him cubs--expand the pack. And of course they had talked about it, explored the options of surrogate and adoption, but they still had years to come. But just hearing Stiles say that, that he still wanted a family, _with Derek_ , none the less, gave the stoic man butterflies. Stiles was definitely getting laid tonight. And then maybe again tomorrow morning.

“Could you?”  
  
“Could I what?”  
  
“Even have kids? You know...with your... _lifestyle_ and everything.”

Stiles didn't seemed deterred by it, just letting out a little sigh like he had expected this. But it was a _sneer_. A jab. At _his mate._  Now, Derek’s grip tightened for a complete other reason. The Sheriff must have caught the flash of blue that the others didn’t, because he was suddenly throwing himself in between Derek and Victor.

“Alright,” he said sternly, glaring at the other man, “that’s enough. It was nice of you to stop by Victor, but I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“I--what? John?”

“It was nice to see you.”

The man sputtered before grabbing his coat from a nearby table and stalking towards the exit. By the time the Sheriff turned back to the boys, Derek’s neck was craned so that he was eye level to his son, talking in soft murmurs that he couldn’t make out.

“Sorry,” he announced, clapping Derek’s shoulder, “I, uh...I didn’t expect--”

Derek, of course, waved him off unbothered. It was Stiles who looked like he was about to hightail it out of this ridiculous party and run back home, Derek, as always, in tow. And John was tempted to let him. If he could just stick it out until the end of the speeches--Dinner had gone off without a hitch. The Mayor’s daughter was in kindergarten, a year below what Stiles taught. The two conversed easily about the school system, it’s gains and it’s faults. And she made a very promising comment at the end of it all, insinuating that Stiles would have little Malia Tate in his class next year--just one more hour. And then he would let him leave.

“What do you say?” He asked after laying the situation out for Stiles.

He shot Derek a pleading look and that seemed to do the trick, “Stiles?” The werewolf prompted.

“I...yeah. Yeah. Sorry. An hour’s good.”

“I’m sorry,” John said again, but this time Stiles shrugged at him easily enough.

“I just need more champagne,” the boy decided.

John smiled and gave his son a tight brief hug before letting him go off with Derek.

 

After another _three_ glasses of champagne, Stiles was over the entire Victor incident and bouncing around happily. Derek refused to believe the alcohol had nothing to do with it. After the last speech, Jackson's 'Thanks For Coming Out' Address, the band struck up a slower tune and everyone grabbed their partners and headed towards the dance floor. Dancing wasn’t their thing...well _organized_ dancing, wasn't.

Stiles liked to flail around the house to anything that made noise. And Derek had indulged him in a late night spin around the kitchen to Frank Sinatra once or twice, just to be the domesticated living cliche that they were. Hell, they even had a dog (Cora had bought it for them as a joke, but then of course Stiles had fallen in love with it--tried to name him Peter, but had settled on Arrow instead--and well, Derek had never been very good at telling Stiles ‘no’).

But when the werewolf looked down to see the beautiful man tucked underneath his arm, pale face, long eyelashes, sporadic moles and all, he wanted nothing more than to share this moment with him.

“May I have this dance?”  
  
Stiles snorted, his amber eyes flickering up to Derek’s expectant ones, “Always, Sourwolf.”

Derek pulled him towards the large balcony. The night air was cool against their skin, but it wasn’t cold. Derek would have called it perfect. There were handfuls of couples around them, swaying to the melodic song that caressed the night around them.

Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles, stepping into his space and pulling his other hand to rest on his chest. He let his own hand cover Stiles’ thin fingers, while the boy grabbed onto Derek’s shoulder. They traveled to the song and it wasn’t long until Stiles’ head was resting on Derek’s strong chest. Derek had his nose buried in soft long hair, taking his time and breathing in the scent of pure _Stiles_. He wanted to remember this moment forever. The man he loved was in his arms, content and safe. And in love with him too.

“I love you,” he murmured against Stiles’ temple.

They continues to rock back and forth, fitting together like a dream. Their bodies. Their souls. They were perfect for each other.

“I love you too,” Stiles said matter of factly. The steadiness in his heartbeat and the sureness of his voice was enough for Derek to promise himself to Stiles for good. His Stiles. His love. “You are my entire world, Derek.”

“Stiles.”

“I’m serious. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

The werewolf smiled down at him before taking Stiles in a chaste kiss. He sobered as he pulled away.

“Stiles. You deserve the best of everything.” The boy peered up at him curiously, but didn’t interrupt, “and I know I can’t give you everything that you deserve.”  
  
“Derek. You can stop right there. Seriously. I--”  
  
“Stiles, let me finish.”

“I swear to God. Say one more degrading thing about the man I love and I’ll kick your ass.”

A stupid grin broke his face as he leaned in to kiss the idiot again. It was hard to kiss while smiling, but Derek had great practice by now.

“Listen first. _Then_ you can talk.”

Stiles let out an indignant sigh before motioning for him to continue on. Derek knew it was an empty promise, but he’d take it for now. The song changed, but it was still slow and calming, coaxing Derek into swaying around with Stiles in his arms for a few extra moments before continuing.

“I’m not rich anymore Stiles.”  
  
“I don’t care.”

“There’s no Hale fortune. There’s no huge bank account. The Hale name doesn’t mean what it used to anymore.”  
  
“If you seriously think I’m with you for your money then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.”

“I know, Stiles,” his voice was a low murmur into Stiles’ ear, “I’m just warning you. If you want a future together, things aren’t going to be easy. I have nothing.”

“Derek--”

Stiles’ voice was pained now, but he spoke over him, “I’m not an Alpha anymore.”  
  
Stiles snorted, “Trust me, I _know_.”

“I don’t have a lot of things. I don’t have a huge house. Or a huge future.”

“Derek. Please--”

“But I’ve learned that being materialistic only gets you so far.”

“Listen, if you’re talking about Roscoe then you should stop. Because he is staying. Huge future or not.”

Derek couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed. He only held Stiles closer.

“It’s not about Roscoe.”

“Good.”

“I just want you to understand, Stiles. I have nothing to give you. I can’t give you what you deserve.”

“Derek. You're and idiot. I don’t deserve _you_. You’re _more_ than I deserve. More than anyone deserves, really. I...I still don’t understand how I got so lucky. To end up with someone like you. To end up _with_ you. Really. You give me _everything_ I need. And then some more. With everything you went through...I just...I hope _I’m_ enough. I’m not worthy of your love sometimes Derek.”

“Sometimes?” He mused, unable to help himself.

“Other times...when you’re being all broody, I deserve it,” he grinned, but then turned back to his serious demeanor, “But other times...I don’t.”

“Look who’s the idiot now.”

Stiles chuckled and pressed a kiss to the bottom of Derek’s jaw, "I  _love_ you."

“I’m serious, Stiles. You have to understand. I won’t be able to give you everything.”

“You _are_ my everything.”  
  
“Stiles,” he warned.

“Derek. You might not be able to give me certain things, but a relationship is all about compromise. You said it yourself. And I’m willing to compromise everything if I have to, as long as it means that I still get to be with you. You might not be able to give me everything. But I’m okay with that. You _could_ give me the entire world, Derek. But it wouldn’t matter. Not without you...without _us_.”

“Are...are you _sure_?” Derek asked.

To Stiles, it sounded like a loaded question. He needed Derek to understand.

“Listen to my heart,” Stiles urged, now bringing Derek’s hand to press against _his_ chest, his pale bony fingers wrapping around Derek’s tan and strong ones.

“You might not be able to give me everything. But I’m okay with that,” he repeated slowly, “None of that matters. I'm in love with you."

Derek watched him carefully with fond eyes and Stiles raised an eyebrow in question at the strange behavior.  
  
The werewolf broke out into a smile, “Alright. Just remember _you_ said it.”  
  
“Said what? What do you mean ‘alright’, Derek?”

“Don’t laugh at me okay?”

“No promises” Stiled uddered, watching in suspicion as Derek took a small step back from him. It wasn’t until Derek dropped down to one knee, one of Stiles’ hands in both of his, that Stiles finally _understood_.

“Der--” his voice was already broken.

“You deserve the entire world, Stiles. And I can’t give it to you. Not all of it. I know that. But I’m selfish. Especially when it comes to you. And I want you. I want you forever. I want to wake up next to you forever. I want to kiss you forever. I want to argue with you forever. I am in love with you. And I will always be. And I know I can’t give you everything you deserve, but I will try my best. So...Stiles Stilinski, will you marry me?”

He didn’t even get a chance to pull the ring out of his chest pocket, which thinking back, he should have done in the beginning, before Stiles had launched himself at Derek, kissing him hungrily and desperately. The boy had tears running down his face and Derek would deny it later, but he had even been crying a little too. The room around them exploded in applause, but Derek was too focused on standing to his full height to hold a happily crying Stiles in his arms, kissing his face between breathes, to notice.

“Oh my God,” he finally got out, “ _Derek,"_ like he couldn't believe it.

They shared another kiss, this time it was long and sweet. Stiles was grasping at him like he was going to disappear in a second’s notice, while Derek was holding him like the most precious thing in the world.

“Stiles,” he muttered against his lips after a moment, “these all seem like really good signs and everything. But you haven’t officially answered yet.”  
He laughed before pressing another kiss to Derek’s swollen lips, “Yes, you idiot. Of course I’ll marry you.”

He reluctantly pulled back, producing two gold wedding bands with a simple black line around the middle of each. The engraved triskelion on the inside of it didn’t go unnoticed as Derek slipped it onto Stiles’ shaking finger. He captured Derek in a breathless kiss once more when the pack, which had gathered in the doorway of the balcony to watch (because of course Derek had it all planned down to the T, thanks to Lydia) along with his father and Melissa, made their way over to them.

There were hugs and tears, exclamations and congratulations being passed around. Lydia even let a few tears out despite her carefully done makeup, and Scott was full out bawling. He held Stiles close before he had surprised Derek by pulling him into a bone crushing hug as well.

“That was beautiful, man. Thank you. I know you’ll take care of him.”

And that had been all he needed to hear to know that he had Scott’s blessing. Kira and Erica cooed over the ring while Jackson gave each of them a pat on the back. Boyd, as indifferent as he was, clasped Derek in a hug and gave Stiles one of his rare smiles. Stiles had openly gaped until Lydia pulled his attention away.

As Derek watched Stiles with John and Melissa, all three with shining eyes and stained faces, he longed for his own parents, but knew, that at that moment, they were with him. He felt Laura’s warm smile. He felt his mother’s strong approval. He felt his father’s grounding presence. He felt his younger sister’s carefree spirit. And then he felt Cora’s warm hand slipping into his own.

“You did good,” she said, “they’d be proud of you.”

Derek smiled over at her, “I know. They’d be proud of you, too.”

She paused before accepting it, “I know.” And then after a few moments, “They would have liked him.”

Derek didn’t bother hiding the unfallen tears now. He gave his sister’s hand a tight squeeze, “Yeah. I think so.”

A few minutes later Stiles was by his side again.

“I love you. So much,” Stiles said looking into his eyes, “Thank you. For letting me have you. It’s the best thing anyone’s ever given me.”

Derek pressed a kiss to the corner of Stiles’ mouth. He couldn’t think of any words that could convey exactly how he was feeling at that moment. But Stiles knew. He knew that Stiles knew. So he did the only other thing he could think of and smiled. And Stiles smiled brilliantly back.

“Can I get you a drink? Mr. Hale?” He asked after a moment.

“After you,” Derek insisted, “ _Mr. Hale_.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked it? What'd you guys think? Help me out and leave a comment? Please?  
> Song requests & prompts are always open!  
> Much Love xoxo


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